He Understands
by sablecain
Summary: Sequel to "He Sees"- It is Ezra's turn to face an emotional anniversary but things get complicated when he doesn't tell anyone what's bothering him.
1. Chapter 1

The Sequel to "He Sees"

Disclaimer: The magnificent 7 characters belong to MGM, Trilogy and Mirisch. No profit is being made from this story.)

* * *

Ezra stared out the window watching as a light rain tapped a quiet rhythm against the glass. He focused on a droplet of water and followed its weaving path down the pane. He could hear the town coming alive in the cool gray morning and knew that he needed to force himself to move.

He wasn't sure how long he'd sat in the rocking chair. He didn't actually remember moving from the bed to the chair, just that sometime in the night he'd watched the moon disappear and the rain begin. Part of him desired nothing more than to stay where he was, the other remembered clearly that Chris had asked him to accompany Nathan, escorting the morning stage to Eagle Bend. If he attempted to avoid the journey he knew any excuse he provided would be greeted with hostility as his usual complaining and he did not feel up to any confrontations…not today.

Sighing heavily, Ezra pushed the soft quilt off of his bare shoulders and stretched his cramped limbs. He groaned softly and shivered in the morning air, eyed his rumpled bed one last time and began his morning routine. It didn't take long, and Ezra found himself in front of his mirrored bureau scrutinizing his pale reflection.

"You look horrific," he mumbled, unable to ignore the dark circles beneath bloodshot eyes or the drawn expression he couldn't seem to lose. He tried to smile genuinely but the result was almost frightening. Shaking his head in resignation he opened the top drawer and reached into its depths. He smiled faintly when he felt the velvet pouch and with graceful movements pulled it from the drawer and loosened its ties. With a gentle shake, a silver case slid into his hand. Lightly, Ezra ran his thumb over the ornate carving in the precious metal before taking a deep breath and opening it.

It was a long moment before he was able to exhale slowly. His fingers ghosted over the image as if it would fade when touched. His heart seemed to beat harder and faster as he struggled with his emotions.

"I miss you," he whispered hoarsely.

Reluctantly Ezra closed the case and returned it to the black pouch. He shoved the bag into the drawer and closed it definitively. One more glance at the mirror and he was sure he had himself together enough to face the day.

Downstairs, he found everyone but JD already focused on their morning meal. The smell of hot biscuits and fried bacon turned his stomach as he requested a simple cup of coffee from Inez.

"That all you're having?" Nathan asked as Ezra approached the table.

Vin slid a chair out for him and Ezra nodded his thanks to the Tracker as he settled into it.

"This is sufficient," he said, finally answering Nathan's question.

Nathan huffed and shook his head as he mumbled under his breath about the trail and not sharing his noon meal just because Ezra was too stubborn to know what was good for him. Josiah smiled at the healer while Ezra merely raised an eyebrow.

"Where're your fancy duds this morning?" Buck asked curiously, between bites. The brown coat was almost drab in comparison to the brightly colored jackets Ezra usually wore and seemed out of place.

"I didn't see any reason to ruin a fine specimen of clothing riding in such weather as this." Ezra answered as he set his cup down on the table, one hand motioning toward the window and the steady drizzle.

"Makes sense," Vin agreed, snagging a biscuit from Wilmington's plate.

The bat wing doors of the saloon slapped the wall and swung wildly with JD's sudden entrance. "Morning guys." He smiled, shaking excess rain off before he moved further into the building.

"What have you been doing out there?" Buck asked.

"Getting ready." JD bounced on his toes and waved off Josiah's offer of a chair.

"For what?" Buck was immediately suspicious.

"I'm going with Nathan and Ezra."

Ezra looked up quickly, surprised by JD's announcement. "If you wish to take my position as escort, I'd be more than happy to…"

"You're going, Ezra." Chris' tone held no room for argument but Ezra turned toward him anyway.

"Is there a need for all three of us?"

"That stage is carrying a large deposit of gold for the bank in Eagle Bend, as well as the entire Miller Family. Won't hurt to have an extra set of guns along."

"A little rain won't hurt you none, Ezra." Nathan added when Chris finished.

Ezra bit back an angry retort and simply nodded to Chris. Then, taking a final gulp of his coffee, stood, adjusted his coat and headed out the doors.

"Something wrong with him?" Josiah asked, following Standish's retreat with concerned eyes.

Vin frowned but had no answer for the Preacher.

"I could stay…" JD offered but Chris cut him off.

"No, you're going."

A quarter of an hour later Chris stood just outside the saloon watching as his three men rode out with the stage. The rain had tapered off, leaving only a cold dampness that seemed to cling at a man and weigh him down.

"Thinking hard?" Vin asked, quietly appearing beside him.

Chris grinned. "Not really."

"Everything all right?" Vin took his hat off and ran a hand through his damp curls.

"Don't know," Chris admitted, not knowing how to put his thoughts to words. There had been something different about Standish and he couldn't figure it out. Any other day Ezra would have complained dramatically about the weather and made some attempt to avoid the trip. Today-he was quiet and acquiesced to Chris' orders without so much as a real argument. Chris had expected and imaginative response to Nathan's comment as well, but the Gambler seemed more interested in getting away from them. Now as he watched the three ride through the fog, Ezra rode apart from the other two, his shoulders slightly slumped and his head almost bowed.

"Our brother looks weary." Josiah commented as he and Buck joined him and Vin.

"Probably stayed up all night at the tables again." Buck's voice held no judgment.

"Nah." Vin shook his head, "went to his room b'fore I left. Mentioned his head was bothering him."

Buck shrugged. "Maybe that's what was wrong with him this morning then."

Chris turned as the stage and riders disappeared around the bend. "Maybe," he said, but the doubt in his voice was obvious.

* * *

The wind picked up not long after the journey began. Gusts of cold air ripped and tore at the riders, causing them to huddle over their saddle horns and grip their jackets closer, seeking whatever warmth they could find.

"Can't believe it's this cold today," JD commented, pulling his hat more firmly onto his head.

Ezra nodded but kept his gaze forward.

"Are you feeling alright, Ezra? You look tired," Dunne said honestly.

Nathan looked back and frowned when Ezra replied that he was fine.

There were a few moments of silence save for the rattling and creaking of the stagecoach when JD began talking again.

"Oh," he smiled widely, catching Ezra's gaze. "I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Travis loaned me a new book yesterday. 'The Count of Monte Cristo', she said it was full of intrigue and adventure. Have you ever read it?"

Ezra looked at JD blankly, the wind teasing at his hair and trying to lift his hat from his head.

"Have you?" JD asked again, confused by the lack of response.

Ezra cleared his throat. "Uh, no I haven't," he lied. Then without explanation he pulled back on the reigns and steered his mount away from JD's. He waited until the stage had passed before riding to take up watch on the other side of it.

JD frowned and looked at Nathan. "Did I??" He let the question hang, unsure of what had happened.

"Don't mind him, JD." Nathan consoled. "He's most likely mad over having to take this trip."

Dunne shook his head, wiping at his bangs in an effort to keep them out of his eyes. "I don't know, Nathan. Seems like something else."

"Let him ride by himself for awhile," Nathan said with annoyance. It didn't seem right to him that Ezra was taking his anger with Larabee out on JD. None of them particularly liked riding in this kind of weather but they had a job to do and no one but Standish seemed to ever make issue out of it.

Ezra heard Nathan's voice from the far side of the stage and though he couldn't distinguish the words, he caught the tone clearly. He grimaced and rubbed his forehead where his headache felt most intense. He hadn't meant to brush off JD, but the Kid was just more than he could handle right now. The lightness in his voice, the curiosity that was so familiar… his heart twisted as the memory assailed him. Pale, slender fingers peeling back a soft cloth cover to reveal the leather bound volume within. Gold lettering reflected brilliantly in the soft light of the room.

"Oh, Ezra," a refined southern drawl. "It's beautiful." Brown eyes wide with curiosity met his. They flicked back to the book as the fingers traced the lettering. The strong scent of leather filled the room. " 'Le Comte de Monte Cristo,' it sounds so intriguing Ezra, have you ever read it?"

The gambler shook his head suddenly, chasing the memory and the feelings that came with it away as he tried to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. Maybe he should have pulled Larabee aside and privately excused himself from the mission. Chris was the only one who knew about his past enough to understand the significance of this day, but Ezra didn't think he could have spoken of it and maintained his hard fought and fragile emotional control.

Sighing, Ezra adjusted his hat and pulled at the collar of his coat as the wind picked up and the rain began to fall again, somehow thankful for the numbness brought about by the unusually cold September rain.

* * *

Chris watched from his chair outside of the saloon as the rain began to fall fast and hard. He pulled his duster closed to protect himself from the strong gusts of wind that assaulted him but couldn't stop the cold from creeping in and making his bones ache, reminding him of various injuries from his past. His shoulder twinged and he debated seeking the warmth of the saloon where relief was waiting with a cup of coffee, or a shot of whiskey…or both, but his growing sense of foreboding held him in his place.

He smelled the coffee before he heard Vin approach.

"Thought you could use this." The tracker grinned at Chris' surprised expression.

"Thought right." Larabee took the mug of steaming liquid and held it under his chin, letting the steam warm his face a moment before gently blowing on it and taking a small sip.

"Bet they're all miserable about now?" Vin asked, balancing his own cup in one hand while reaching for the vacant chair beside Chris, spinning it around and straddling it.

"Probably- cold and wet," Chris answered.

Vin nodded not looking up from his cup. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of the rain beating mercilessly against the wooden roof above them.

"Stage should have stayed." Tanner broke the silence.

"Bank needed that gold," Chris explained but his tone revealed that he agreed with Vin.

"Feels wrong," Vin commented, glancing up at his friend.

"Yup." Chris took another sip of his coffee, wondering what good it would do to make the rest of the team ride out in these conditions and if it was really necessary or not.

"That Buck?" Vin's question caused Chris to look up and squint through the downpour at the figure moving quickly across the muddy street toward them.

"We got problems," Buck hopped up onto the boardwalk and shivered as he pulled a note from his coat. "Mary handed me this wire from Eagle Bend," he explained, handing it to Chris. "New sheriff over there caught a man sneaking round the bank. Guy squealed like a stuck pig when they questioned him. Said Sam LaFollette and his gang were laying in wait somewhere along the trail for the stage."

"How many?" Chris asked as he and Vin both stood.

"A dozen."

Chris frowned and set his coffee down on the railing. "Get Josiah," he ordered, hoping that the weather had slowed the stage down enough to let them catch up with it before it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2--

* * *

Ezra rode along distractedly, the rain limiting his visibility to only a few feet in any direction. The trail, though packed hard from years of travel, was turning slick with a thin layer of mud. He wondered if he should suggest that they stop until the worst of the weather had passed but didn't figure Nathan would be open to any advice coming from him at the moment. Besides, Larabee had stressed the day before that getting the gold to Eagle Bend was a top priority.

Standish looked up sharply when the stage slipped to a sudden stop. He saw the dark forms of riders appear from the sides of the trail and instantly reached for his weapon. A shot hit his right arm just above the elbow, the force and surprise of it combining to propel him out of the saddle. He gasped, as the wind was knocked out of him when he hit the ground in a muddy splash. Pain stabbed through his left wrist and he struggled to catch his breath while trying to trigger his hidden derringer but someone was already on him. The small gun was wrenched from his grasp as soon as the spring released and a well place kick caught him in the side. His hat had disappeared in the fall and he grimaced when strong fingers dug for a handful of hair and yanked him upright.

Ezra slipped and skidded as he tried to gain his footing, his captor dragging him around the back of the stage and to the other side.

"Ezra!"

The relief of hearing JD's frantic shout was overwhelmed by the sight of him and Nathan kneeling in the mud with guns pressed against the back of their necks. The grip on his hair tightened and he was shoved roughly toward the others. Somehow he saved himself from sprawling on his face but was forced to his knees beside Nathan.

"Don't move," another gunman growled behind him. His arm bled freely, his one attempt to stem the flow halted by the icy barrel pressing against the flesh of his neck.

"Get those passengers out of there," the obvious leader of the large group ordered. "And find the gold."

The three lawmen watched as the family aboard the stage were forced out into the rain. Mr. Miller held onto his wife and his two young sons, reassuring them with soft whispers and following each instruction given to him with out hesitation. Mrs. Miller let out a small scream of fear when the driver's body was dropped to the ground beside them.

"Hey Sam, it's all here," one of the gunmen shouted from above.

The leader glanced up and smiled. "Good, good. Pack it up and get it on the horses." He turned and wiped the rain from his face, taking his time as he focused on his victims. "Tear it up," he ordered two other men on the stage. "Anything valuable goes with us. Luke, Jed- search them." He pointed to the Miller family then turned his attention to Nathan, JD, Ezra and the five men guarding them. "See if they have anything to offer us as well."

The outlaws grabbed JD first, searching him quickly for anything of value. They searched his pockets, roughly pushing him around before dropping him back down on the ground and moving on to Nathan and repeating the process.

"Damn Jake, these two got nothing." One of them muttered as they turned their attention to Ezra.

Standish hissed as someone gripped his wounded arm and held him while another set of hands ripped open his jacket.

"Timothy, I think we hit the jackpot this time." Jake grinned and brushed a hand over his red mustache while holding up Ezra's gold pocket watch with the other.

"About time." Timothy laughed, jerking Ezra again and eliciting another gasp.

Ezra made no further response as he was searched, even when his coat was pulled completely off so they could access his derringer rigging. He kept his eyes on Nathan and JD sitting helplessly under the guard of three gunmen and tried not to feel the hands that searched relentlessly through his pockets. His boots were taken and Jake hooted with delight as he tossed a roll of cash to Sam. "Looks like you got an added bonus this take, LaFollette."

The man next to Sam grinned when he was handed the money. "Hang on to this for me Boyd." Sam smiled and winked at Ezra. "He won't be needing it."

Ezra struggled to free himself but Timothy held him firmly, squeezing Ezra's wound harshly. Ezra felt a wave of dizziness pass over him with the pain but it snapped into sudden clarity when Jake grasped his left hand and began to pull on his ring.

"No." He said, instantly curling his fingers into a tight fist.

Jake jumped at the sound and met the gambler's unwavering gaze. "No?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. He pulled at the ring again, grabbing Ezra's hurt wrist for leverage. Ezra cried out but did not give in. "Think you can fight me for it?" Jake leaned close enough that Ezra could smell the whiskey on his breath and without giving any time to react, the larger man lashed out, his fist connecting solidly with Ezra's face. Someone moved behind him, helping Timothy hold him in place while Jake struck again and again. Ezra's vision faded. He heard Nathan shout but couldn't focus on the words as he blocked out everything save for the feel of his own fingernails digging into the soft flesh of his palm.

Nathan watched, shocked when Ezra suddenly spoke against his captors. What was the man thinking?

"Give him the ring, Ezra!" he shouted. The guard behind him clubbed him between the shoulder blades, driving him face first into the cold mud. A boot on his back effectively held him in place. He turned his head as JD began to struggle. "Keep still, JD," he growled loudly, flinching when JD earned a blow to the head and the man above him applied more pressure to his back. Nathan's fingers dug into the thick ooze beneath him as he strained to see if Dunne was all right. The Kid looked stunned but was conscious and cooperating since two men now held him still.

Carefully Jackson dared to look back at Ezra. Jake continued to demand the ring, striking out with more force and strategy than he had with his initial attack. The Southerner, however, clenched his fist tighter and endured the onslaught with stubborn determination.

Nathan's anger grew as Ezra's body sagged, becoming a dead weight for the two men trying to hold him upright. "Just give him the ring, you fool," he whispered. "Give him the damn ring."

Jake stopped abruptly and took a step back, his hands on his hips while he contemplated. "Murray, get me one of those fancy knives you got off that one." He pointed to Nathan.

"No!" Nathan tried squirming but the foot came down hard sending an incredible pain up his spine.

Ezra's eyes blinked open and met his, the healer silently pleading for Ezra to give in, praying he wouldn't have to witness his own weapons used against his friend. "Please, Ezra." He spoke softly hoping that Standish would read his lips. Something flashed through Ezra's eyes, an emotion that Nathan couldn't put a name to -one he'd never seen previously in the suave con man- before they closed again with sad resignation.

Nathan groaned, frustrated by his helplessness as Jake caught the knife Murray tossed him and flipped it several times, testing it's weight and balance. The rain tapered off and, as much as he wanted to close out what was happening, Jackson lay mesmerized by the moisture glinting off the shiny instrument's blade. The only sound of the moment was JD's soft chanting, "No. No. No."

Ezra never moved. Jake waved the weapon menacingly. "Hold him tight, boys." He grinned. "I'm gonna get that ring if I have to take the whole hand." Stepping closer he grabbed Ezra's battered wrist again, squeezing tighter when Ezra moaned and touched the tip of the knife to the base of Ezra's ring finger, just below the gold band. He pressed slowly, obviously pleased when Standish's eyes opened again.

"Is it worth it?" Jake hissed, pausing with surprise at the lack of reaction from the man before him, then smiled gleefully. "Have it your way." He readjusted his grip on the knife and sliced across the finger, just breaking the skin and nicking another finger in the process.

Ezra felt the sharp cut of the knife and closed his eyes and waited for the blade's finishing slice. For all his attempts to keep his promise, he had failed. The sounds around him seemed to fade and for a moment he could feel nothing but the deep desire to cross from this world into the next. He never heard the angry shouting, the rapid gunfire or the scuffling around him. He was unaware of anything until he was gently rolled onto his back. He tried to pull away when someone wrapped something soft around his still fisted hand.

"Easy, son." Ezra forced his eyes open at the familiar voice of Josiah.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ezra?" Nathan appeared in his blurred vision, quickly checking the gunshot wound on his arm. "You could have gotten us all killed over that worthless chunk of gold."

Chris looked up sharply, passing a prisoner to Vin. Many of the gang members had scattered into the surrounding trees but Sam LaFollette and the gold were in custody. Stepping over the body of one of the less fortunate, Chris joined Josiah and Nathan. He glanced once at Buck and JD, checking to make sure the two were okay and had the Miller family under control.

"What's going on?" he asked, turning his concern back to Standish. "Is he going to be all right?"

"Should be. He lost a lot of blood and his head banged around pretty good," Nathan answered as he wrapped a rag around Ezra's arm, trying to stop the bleeding. "His wrist ain't busted by the feel of it but it was definitely twisted wrong, and he got his finger cut up a bit. I'll need to put in stitches." The healer's voice rose as he continued. "Son of a bitch refused to give up his damn ring and almost lost his finger for it, not to mention he could have gotten us all killed in the process!" He wrapped the makeshift bandage around Ezra's arm, twisted it and then tied it over the wound with a brutal yank, causing Standish to cry out and pull away.

"Nathan!" Josiah pushed the frustrated man back at the same time as Chris harshly grabbed his arm.

"I'm sorry, sorry." Nathan fell back, running a free hand over his face. "I'm fine now, I just can't understand why he did that."

"Are you hurt?" Josiah asked, eyeing him warily.

Nathan managed a faint smile. "Just bruised." He pulled away from Chris slowly and gently dabbed another rag at Ezra's split and swollen lips. "They only focused on him," he added quietly.

Chris watched while Nathan administered to Ezra with renewed care. He frowned and turned to the man laying a few feet from him. He squatted beside the corpse and picked up a discarded knife, recognizing it as one of Nathan's. Wiping the blade across his thigh he cleaned off the mud and blood, all the while Ezra's words from a few months past resounding in his mind. "I promised her I'd never take it off… Four years this September…"

"Damn it, Ezra," he whispered, turning the weapon over in his hand. "Why didn't you tell me it was today?" Cursing again he stabbed the knife viciously into the softened earth and rose to his feet. "Nathan, get Ezra into the stage with the Millers," he ordered. "Let's get back to town before the rain starts up again."

* * *

Nathan released a long breath and rubbed at the small of his back as he watched Josiah tenderly ease the semi-coherent gambler out of his mud encrusted clothing and get him settled on the bed. JD sat on a cot, holding a cold wet cloth against his temple and watching quietly.

Jackson adjusted his clean, dry shirt and began mixing some herbs together. "Buck bringing you dry clothes?" he asked, diverting Dunne's attention for a moment.

"Yeah." JD nodded and pulled the thick blanket closer around his shoulders, trying to suppress a shiver. "Ezra gonna be okay?" he asked.

Nathan's gaze shifted to the two other men in the room. " Just need to make sure that nothing is busted and get him patched up. He took a couple of really hard blows to the head though," he qualified.

Ezra mumbled something that none of them could decipher as Josiah washed his bruised face. Nathan checked the bandaged arm, satisfied to see that the bleeding had stopped. He moved a lamp closer and began to clean and stitch up the wound.

"Went straight through?" Josiah asked, laying a hand on Ezra's chest when the younger man began to grow restless.

"Yeah, " Nathan answered. "Lucky it's not worse." Anger tinted his voice as he worked quickly in the otherwise silent room. He covered the stitches with a loose bandage and frowned when he noted the swelling in Ezra's lower arm and hand, guiltily realizing he that he must have tied the original bandage too tightly and left it that way for too long. Lightly, he touched the swollen fingers, still tinged a light purple, hoping that he hadn't caused any lasting damage. Grimacing, he finally stretched, stood and moved to the other side of the bed, waiting for Josiah to move before sitting down and starting to examine Ezra's damaged wrist.

Ezra visibly tensed when touched again so Josiah pulled up a chair opposite the healer and placed a hand on his other arm to keep it still, wanting to avoid any of the new stitches getting pulled out.

After a brief moment, Nathan's shoulders sagged wearily. "Lots of bruising but I don't think its broken." He told the others, gingerly checking the wrist, "I should wrap it for extra support for awhile." Methodically he peeled the bloody rag from Ezra's left hand. "Need to clean and stitch this first," he muttered.

"Is it bad?" JD asked. He still couldn't quite understand why Ezra had been willing to risk his finger or hand for a ring.

Nathan grunted and shook his head. "That beast was planning on taking it off slowly." He spoke with disgust. He dabbed the cut lightly, wiping any fresh blood from the wound, then began to slide the ring off in order to gain better access.

Ezra lurched upright, pulling away from Nathan and Josiah and tightening his hand into a fist. The cut split and began to bleed again. "No," he pleaded softly.

"Ezra, it's just me. I'll keep it safe but I gotta take that ring off to fix your finger," Nathan roughly reached for Ezra again.

Standish shook his head, his eyes wildly darting back and forth between the men.

"I'm not sure our Brother is all here right now," Josiah intoned softly.

Nathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need to get that ring off."

"Can't you work around it?" JD wondered out loud. The ring had to mean something if Ezra was putting up this much of a fight with Nathan. He hadn't defended himself when the robbers were taking his watch or money…only when they had gone for the ring and even then JD got the eerie feeling that Ezra was trying to protect the ring, not himself.

"I can't work around it," Nathan stated emphatically. "I need room to clean and stitch the cuts and after that he can't have the ring rubbing on the stitches. 'Sides if his finger keeps swelling it'll just cause more problems." He convinced himself, "It has to come off."

Josiah nodded, understanding the need. "Give Nathan your ring, son," he spoke calmly, trying to break through to the dazed man.

Panic flashed through the Gambler's unfocused eyes and he pulled himself tighter against the bed's headboard. "No, no I can't."

"You have to." Nathan reached again but Ezra lashed out weakly.

"We need to back down," Josiah warned.

"Damn it, Ezra," Nathan berated harshly, ignoring Josiah. "You're gonna let me take that ring now or I'm going to have Josiah hold you down and get Yosemite up here to cut the thing off!"

The door to the clinic slammed open and bounced hard against the wall. Jars and bottle clattered together as Larabee punched it into the wall again. "Get the hell away from him, now," he growled loudly as both Josiah and JD jumped to their feet.

Nathan stood slowly. "Chris, I…" he tried to explain.

"Enough!" Chris shouted.

Jackson flinched, confused by the anger directed at him. "I can't help him," he tried again.

"You ain't trying," Chris accused. "Now get out of my way."

Nathan opened his mouth to argue but snapped it closed immediately at Chris' glare.

Chris ignored the others as they moved out of his way, his focus completely on Standish. It was obvious that Ezra was still disoriented from the earlier beating. His green eyes warily watched him approach and Chris didn't miss the emotion gathering there. "I can't. I can't," Standish mumbled over and over, his southern drawl thicker than normal.

"Ezra." Chris voice was soft, a sharp contrast to his entrance into the room. Slowly he moved closer to the bed and lowered himself onto the mattress, careful to not startle his friend any further.

Ezra's eyes followed his movements and flicked up to meet his steady gaze. Chris readily recognized the fear and hurt, shrouded in confusion. "Ezra," he said again, making sure Standish was aware of what he was doing as he reached up and gently laid his hand against the gambler's neck and jaw. His thumb wiped away a tear that rolled unheeded down Ezra's cheek Applying a small amount of pressure with his fingers, he steadied the southerner and made sure he had the man's attention.

"Chris?" Ezra's green eyes seemed to focus with an emotional clarity.

"Yeah, I'm here." Cautiously he reached for the injured hand Ezra held against his chest. "You're bleeding."

"Yeah," Ezra's voice fell to a whisper as he watched Chris closely, allowing the gunslinger to set the bleeding hand on his knee and press a clean bandage from a pile Nathan had set nearby to it. Chris tightened the grip on Ezra's neck as he looked down at the now stained wedding band and then back up at Ezra.

"No." Ezra whispered, tensing and trying to pull away but Chris held him firmly. "I can't," He pleaded.

Chris could feel the trembling beneath his touch as he waited, unwavering.

"I promised," Ezra protested. He attempted to curl his hand into a fist but the pressure Chris applied kept him from doing anything more than clutching at Larabee's knee. Emotion overflowed as he lost his battle to hold it in. "She's gone."

The agony heard in the drawled statement made Chris blink back his own tears of understanding. "I know."

"It's all I have left…" Ezra closed his eyes, fighting to stay conscious and protect his ring, "to keep her close."

Chris leaned closer to his troubled friend as Ezra bowed his head, emotion and exhaustion overwhelming him. "Do you trust me?"

Ezra kept his eyes closed but gave a short nod. He inhaled with a hiss as Chris slid the ring over his knuckle, twisting it once to help it along. His eyes stayed closed when his hand was released and Chris helped him get more comfortable on the bed again. "I understand." Larabee's whispered breath warmed his ear and he felt a soothing hand on his head as he let go, drifting into the darkness with an unbearable sense of emptiness.

Chris studied the gold band in his hand a moment before tucking it safely into his pocket and standing to face the three men who'd witnessed the entire exchange. Josiah's face bore a sad understanding, JD's a curious confusion as he tried to piece the information together. Nathan stood apart from them, arms crossed stubbornly in front of him as he mind worked over the situation.

Larabee's voice was low and laced with warning when he spoke, "Take care of him."

"Chris."

Holding up a hand, the gunslinger cut Nathan off, making his message clear. "Take care of him."


	3. Chapter 3

Buck was watching from the doorway of the jailhouse when Chris came barreling down clinic steps. "Be right back," he hollered to Vin, jogging out into the street. He caught up with Larabee in four strides and fell in step beside him. "What's going on, Chris?"

When Chris didn't answer Buck grabbed his arm and forced him to a halt, not at all intimidated by the look Chris gave. "JD okay? Ezra?" he asked with concern. His worry grew as he when he saw the pain in his friend's eyes, an old pain – one he recognized way too easily. "Chris?" he asked, his fear growing.

"They're fine," Chris managed. "JD's fine."

Not satisfied, Buck steered Larabee toward the saloon and once inside pushed him at a deserted table in the corner shadows. He left Chris by himself while he went to find a bottle of whiskey and some glasses. Glancing at the mirror overhead, he caught Vin's entrance and picked up a third glass.

"Josiah came in to watch the prisoners," Vin explained quietly. "He's upset about something." He looked from Buck to Chris, waiting for someone to speak.

Wilmington didn't look up until he'd poured the whiskey and shoved a drink towards both men. He stopped up the bottle and set it aside.

Chris stared at the glass before slowly reaching for it and taking a long sip, enjoying the burn as he debated within himself what to say. He'd never planned on sharing Ezra's past with the others but now… three already had overheard, might as well tell the others.

Swiftly he dug into his pocket and pulled out the ring, setting it deliberately in the center of the table.

Buck and Vin exchanged a questioning look before Vin spoke, "Ezra's?"

Still watching the ring as if it could come alive at any moment, Chris nodded.

Buck inhaled sharply. "He didn't lose the finger?" he whispered.

"No," Chris reassured.

"This is what he put up a fight over? He could have gotten killed," Buck murmured quietly. "Could have gotten them all killed."

Taking another sip of whiskey Chris reached forward and touched the ring before pulling back quickly. "He made a promise to his wife that he'd never take it off," he explained, just managing to keep his voice steady.

Buck choked on his drink, coughing in surprise, his eyes watering as he concentrated on catching his breath.

Vin stared. "His wife?" He looked at the ring and then at Larabee again. "He never said."

"No." Chris tossed back the rest of his drink just as Buck recovered.

"That night," Buck rasped. "Here in the saloon when he stayed and talked to you."

Chris' expression confirmed his answer.

"God damn." Buck put his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. "She's dead then." His statement was muffled but clear.

"Yeah."

"How long?" Vin asked.

"Four years…today."

"Oh God." Vin closed his eyes.

"That's why he fought." Buck reached across the table and touched the gold ring. "Why he looked so tired and acted so…off."

The three were silent, the noise around them growing as the later hour began to bring in more patrons.

"Is he okay?" Vin asked finally.

Chris met his gaze. "He will be." He stood and scooped up the ring, tucking it back into his pocket as he started toward the door.

"How?"

Buck's question stopped him but Chris couldn't bring himself to turn around. He cleared his throat, "childbirth," he managed before striding out the door. He never looked back, knowing he wouldn't be able to handle Buck's reaction to his answer.

* * *

Vin found Josiah staring menacingly at the prisoners when he returned to the jail. "You all right?" he asked.

"Not me you should concern yourself with," the preacher answered quietly.

"Not like it's everyday you find out your friend's a widower," he reminded, seeing the obvious effect the news was having on the older man.

"No it's not." Josiah looked up at him, his eyes projecting sadness and loss. "So much pain, I'll never understand it."

Vin nodded knowingly as he picked up the pocket watch, roll of money and boots he'd recovered from one of the robbers, for Ezra. "Didn't think we were supposed to."

Sanchez snorted and shook his head as Tanner left the small building again, marveling at the simplicity and acceptance in the Tracker's answer.

Entering Ezra's room, Vin's eyes scanned it carefully, picking up the signs of his friend's recent restlessness- the tangled bed covers, the discarded quilt, still draped over the rocking chair. Feeling like an intruder, Vin set the muddy boots beside the door, made his way to the bureau and started to slip the pocket watch and money into the top drawer when a hint of silver caught his eye. Pulling the drawer out further, he saw that it was a tintype frame that had slid part way out of its small bag. He reached for it, his hand just brushing the soft cloth before he paused, his hand curling into a tight fist before he pulled back again. Quickly he shut the drawer. He picked up Ezra's boots again on the way out so that he could clean them for his friend and hurrying out of the room; he locked the door and Ezra's secrets safely behind him.

It felt like a long walk from Ezra's room to the corner table downstairs where JD had joined Buck. A dark bruise the only visible sign that Dunne had been involved in the day's earlier events.

"Hey, Kid," Tanner said taking a seat across from him. He let the boots plunk to the floor beside his chair.

"Hey, what're you going to do with those?" JD asked.

"Clean 'em. How're you feeling?"

"Fine, just a headache." JD shifted in his chair and glanced at Buck, obviously concerned for him.

Buck caught his look and managed a weak smile. "We're something else, ain't we?" he asked.

Vin nodded. "Seems a fittin' day to share one's misery." He signaled for Inez to bring another bottle and glass to the table just as Josiah joined them.

"Who's at the jail?" JD moved to stand.

Sanchez waved him down. "Bill Barney volunteered to take a shift."

Vin looked up and grinned, "Barney volunteered?" He shook his head when the older man shrugged.

"He felt led by the Lord."

They fell into a sullen silence as Inez brought two bottles and enough glasses for all of them.

"Why didn't he ever say nothing?" JD asked suddenly.

"Some things are just too hard, JD," Buck answered. "Ezra hates to reveal his hand before he's ready."

"So what do we do now?" JD searched each man's face as he waited for an answer.

Josiah leaned forward and folded his hands around his drink. "We wait until he's ready…and in the meantime, we make sure he knows that we're here."

* * *

Nathan sat in the hard wooden chair he'd placed beside the bed and massaged his temples. Ezra stirred and murmured softly in his sleep. Jackson frowned at his patient's restlessness, wondering how much sleep Ezra had been getting. How many secrets did this man have? How many times was Standish going to shatter everything he believed to be true about him? He'd made so many judgments based on his own perceptions, and assumptions. Chris had been right; he hadn't been trying to help Ezra, he'd been too busy being angry.

Glancing at the southerner again, Nathan took the time to really look at him. He saw the dark circles under the eyes and the strain and tension still visible in sleep. He could see the slight amount of weight loss now that Ezra was without a shirt. He wondered how many meals Ezra had missed lately. His gaze settled on Ezra's right hand and he found himself relieved to see the color in Ezra's hand had returned to normal. The fingers still looked swollen and he bit his lip guiltily as he gently checked their flexibility. It was better than before and improving but he wondered how he was going to apologize to Ezra for such treatment.

Jackson was pulled from his wonderings when Chris entered the dim room again. "He still asleep?" he asked, no longer displaying any signs of his earlier anger with the healer.

"Yeah." Nathan nodded. "He's been in and out...restless." He finished with a sigh of frustration.

Chris listened and watched Ezra grimace in his sleep. "I'll stay with him awhile."

"It's no problem," Nathan protested.

"I'll stay."

Nathan knew from Larabee's tone that there was no use in arguing further. He looked one more time at Standish and then reluctantly rose to his feet, almost suppressing the groan when his back twinged. "You'll get me if you need me?"

"Yes."

Starting toward the door, Nathan paused after just a few steps and turned back to face Chris. "Look Chris, I'm sorry about earlier. You were right; I wasn't really trying to help him."

"Long as you are now, that's all that matters to me," Chris answered, his eyes intense as they met Nathan's.

"I am," Nathan whispered, then quickly left the room.

Chris settled in the chair that Nathan had deserted and pulled it as close to the bed as he could, until his knees rested against the edge of the mattress. He watched as Ezra raised his injured hand plaintively and moved his lips in a silent dialogue. Standish frowned, an expression of grave sadness coming over him as his hand settled back down and he stilled again.

Keeping his eyes on Ezra's face Chris drew a long gold chain from his shirt pocket and simply held it for a moment. Finally he looked at the object in his hand. He ran his thumb over the locket remembering the way Sarah used to lift her hair and allow him to clasp the original chain for her…the chain that'd been lost in the fire. He closed his eyes as the memory of finding the locket itself in Ella's closet crashed down on him. He'd bought the new chain not long after they'd returned from Ella's, once he'd recovered enough to get around town on his own again. He didn't wear it all the time, only on the days when he needed to feel her closeness- on the days when he felt the loneliest- the pull of the chain beneath his shirt, a reminder that he carried something of her with him.

He let the cool metal of the tiny links slide through his fingers as he searched for the clasp. With great care he slid the locket off of the chain and grasped it tightly in his fist a long moment before putting it safely into his pocket. From another pocket he withdrew Ezra's wedding ring.

"Chris."

He looked up, surprised to find Ezra watching him. The look in the Southerner's eyes telling him immediately that Ezra'd seen the locket and knew what he was doing.

"Chris, you don't have to…"

Chris merely slid the ring onto the chain and looked into Ezra's watery eyes. "Lean forward," he whispered as he moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. He helped Ezra adjust and sit up off the pillows slightly. He could feel Ezra trembling as he reached around his neck and quickly clasped the chain. He eased Standish back against the pillows again and remained seated on the bed. He watched as the emotions washed across Ezra's face…loss, pain, relief, gratitude and understanding, all readily identifiable as he looked at the ring laying on his chest. Slowly Standish raised his injured hand and placed it lightly over the ring, pressing it against his heart.

Chris watched as Ezra's eyes closed, his hand still on his chest. Though the gambler made no sound at all, in the fading light of the clinic's lamps Chris could see the tears as they ran down across his friend's temples and disappeared behind his ears. He swallowed the lump in his own throat and comforted Ezra the only way he knew how. Careful of the injuries, Chris gently laid his hand on top of Ezra's and hoped that Standish would find strength in the knowledge that he was there and he understood.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.


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